The Devil's Daughter: Blood Witch
by livelovedreamxo
Summary: Ok, so Lucifer has a daughter. That's easy enough for Sam and Dean to wrap their heads around. But when she happens to be something they have never faced before, something more powerful than the Devil himself, that they have a hard time understanding. And what does it mean when she says she wants to help? Can they trust her? Can she trust herself?


Prologue

Her father was raging again. This time it was at Michael, her uncle. She sighed in annoyance at the never ending anger. Well, at least this will distract him from her absence. She was going to meet _him_ again, and she was excited, despite the dark bruises blossoming on her ribcage, shoulders, and forearms. She slipped silently to her hiding spot for her "tools", loaded up as much as she could on her person, and only flinched slightly when the loud popping that signified a severe dislocation was acknowledged with a scream of white hot agony. This scream belonged to not her father or uncle, but the new boy who was damned there. His name was... Adam, she thought. He came here with Michael, her father, and another boy. Well, she supposed both of them were more men than boys. The other one though... that one was a definite Winchester. Sam, the younger brother. Neither Sam nor Adam had adjusted well to the burning and the torture. Not like she had. She had made herself harden and cruel, nothing bothered her much anymore. This kept her alive and not burning her out to a crisp.

She stalked across the Pit, which was larger than many people would think. When she finally reached the edge of the Pit, though she could still hear the sounds of ripping flesh and the screams of pain reverberating all around her, she knew her father and the others were well behind her. She knew that if she left then, they wouldn't notice until she had returned. She stood looking at the flames reaching upward to lick the "sky" at the edge of the Pit. She knew not to step too far, or else, like in a video game, she would be "reset" and find herself in the middle of the Pit again. She had made this trip many times, she knew the boundaries better then she knew the back of her hand, and better than she knew _his _face. She took a second to gather her thoughts, and focused on the blood pumping through her body. She reached into her knee-length boot to pull out her athame, or ritual knife. It was small with a beautiful snake-wood handle, and a short, bright silver blade. She turned it over in her hands before pressing it firmly on her wrist. With a swift movement, she cut a narrow sliver of her flesh. As blood beaded out of the wound, she didn't even make a sound; she was used to it by now. Suddenly, the knife changed its appearance. The blade elongated, and now had a golden hue. On the blades faces, ritual markings and Wiccan symbols appeared, etched into it. As her blood slowly dripped from the now gold blade, she lifted it above her head, and slowly made the shape of a door.

Something other than blood was now rushing through her veins, and she smiled, feeling the familiar thump and warmth of her magic taking over. On the lines she "drew", white light began to seep through, and it began to slowly eat away that section of the flame. When the "doorway" was pure white, she slid her athame into her bag; there was no more need for it until she wanted to return. She stepped through the doorway, and felt herself being grabbed from all directions and thrown into the air. When she finally landed again, she was somewhere completely different. This place was many degrees cooler, not so bright with flames, and the sounds of screams didn't reach anywhere but the room the victims were being stored in.

The layout was different than she was used to, but of course that was because of Crowley. He liked to change things up. She walked down the street made from molten lava, her senses on high alert, and she raised a protective shield of magic, so no one could sneak up on her unnoticed. Soon she reached the apartment building that she needed to go into. She sighed, it was taller than last time, but she knew what floor and room _he_ would be in. She pulled her blood-red hair back from her face in a low ponytail, and reached into her bag for a black scarf. She wrapped the scarf around her face, to cover her identity, save for her eyes. Those eyes shone cold and bleak at first glance, yet the farther a person looked into them, the deeper they realized they went. Those eyes hold a disconcerting amount of knowledge. Knowledge of pain, suffering, constant torture, and yet... Yet they held strong. A person looking in those eyes could tell that this girl was strong, confident, and deadly beyond belief.

Those eyes, currently a liquid silver color, turned to look at the building. As she grabbed and began to turn the knob, it grew hotter in her hand. She quickly side stepped around the structure, and pivoted just in time to protect her face from the explosion of a fire ball from inside the building. She could hear the screams of the men, women, and children who had all been trapped inside. She waited for the screams and the flames to die down before she attempted to open the door once more. This time, the door fell off its hinges and offered her no resistance. The fire had stopped just as suddenly as it started. She stepped across the charred boarder, grimacing at the smell of burning flesh, and stealthily paced to the stairs that would lead her to _him_.

She tread lightly up the burnt stairs, stepping softly on the balls of her feet, wincing slightly as the wood creaked and moaned. She knew _he_ would be waiting to hear her step onto the level floor to walk through the hallway, so she leapt nimbly onto the ashy railing. There was no creak, but she did sway forward. She never once lost her balance. With her mind, she reached out to test if the door was locked; it wasn't. She gazed intently at the doorknob and reached out with her energy and watched it turn slowly. She stopped when it could turn no further and held it there for just a moment. Without even the slightest warning from her muscles, she pounced in a graceful arch to the door, kicking out with her left foot to connect with the door. The door was blown of its melted hinges and she landed softly with her knees bent, like a cat. For a moment everything was silent, but she picked up a noise to her right that only her ears could hear, and she leapt upward to grab a rafter. A split-second later would have been too late, _he_ had flown across the room in an attempt to grab her. _He_ straightened quickly, looking for her. She dropped on _him_, knocking _him_ back to the floor. They struggled for a second, but stopped when she had _him_ on _his_ back, _his_ arms locked together above _his_ head while she was straddling _his_ hips. _He_ looked into her face with confusion, then when recognition shot through _his_ face, _he_ smiled, making _his_ eyes shine and _his_ face even more handsome than before.

She smiled as well and bent her face forward to rest her forehead on _his_ for only a second. Then with one motion, she lifted herself off _him_ and unwrapped her scarf, allowing her hair to shake loose and ripple down her back. _He_ looked at her longingly, then quickly turned to raise himself up as well. She turned to look at _him_, her eyes now a deep, sensual brown. Those eyes stopped _him_ for a moment, but then _he_ realized that what _he_ was doing was for those eyes. Those deep, beautiful, ever-changing eyes that indeed led _him_ straight to her bright soul.

Like lightening, _his _arm shot out and with the heel of _his_ hand smacked at the already tender, and possibly splintered, ribs. _He _winced slightly as _he_ felt the resistance of her rib give, and _he_ heard the snap.

She was trained well. The only hurt that showed in her stature was a minute flash in her eyes. She was angry now, _he_ knew, and with just a look, _he_ felt a thousand hands which came from her mind pushing _him_ through the air backwards, and pushed _him_ harder to the ground after _he_ was slammed into a blackened wall. The air was knocked from _his_ lungs and she pounced. While she was in the air, she soundlessly slipped a silver dagger from her boot. She landed on _his_ chest to insure _his_ breathing was labored and painful. She pressed the blade point into _his_ neck and watched _him_ squirm before saying, "Done yet? Are you satisfied?" She moved off _his _chest slightly so _he_ could breathe freely again. _He_ didn't move because of the positioning of her dagger. "That's what I thought." She said, then once again lifted herself off _him_.

"Shut up," _He_ said, spitting blood that had leaked into _his_ mouth. "You know why I push you."

"Yeah yeah," She said, examining her dagger before slipping it safely into her boot. "You're doing this so when my time comes, I will be fully prepared." She whipped around to face _him_, her soft hair slapping his face. She tilted her face to look up into _his_ eyes. "But what you continuously neglect to tell me, is my time for WHAT, I need to be prepared for WHAT?" She stared, waiting for an answer. When _he_ did not offer one, she narrowed her eyes, which were once again a cool silver, and walked away from _him_.

_ He_ reached out to grab her arm, but as _his_ fingers grazed hers, a piercing white light filled the room, and _he_ was filled with dread. It was time, and she was ready. But _he_ was not ready to let her go. They stepped closer to one another as they shielded their eyes. The building shook on its foundations, and began crumbling around them. A high pitched searing noise rang through their ears.

"Angels!" _He_ yelled, grabbing her and pushing her away from the origin of the light. Suddenly, everything stopped. The rumbling, the noise, the light, all gone. Then, an explosion knocked them off their feet and away from each other and a man wearing a tan trench coat appeared in between them, facing her. "No!" _He_ yelled, then received a sharp slap across the face from the man, who had swiftly moved in front of _him_.

"Nobody says no to me, you knew this was her last day." The man said in a deep voice, his blue eyes void of emotion. "You'll see her again, if you find her." The man reached out with his hand, and laid two fingers on _his_ forehead. She screamed as she watched _him_ slowly disappear. They locked eyes for a moment, and thousands of unspoken things were communicated across the space between them, and then, _he_ was gone.

"What did you do to him? Where is he?!" She shouted, standing and offering a swift kick to the back of the man's knees, forcing him to the ground. She grabbed his hair and yanked his head back, she had him effectively pinned. He just smiled, which made her even more angry.

"He's on Earth, where you will be soon." He began, then frowned when he saw her questioning face. "Listen first, ask later." She hissed under her breath, and bared her teeth in a snarl. He disappeared, and reappeared behind her. He grabbed her roughly, she couldn't move. Her growl was pronounced this time. "Listen child. You will do this, or your precious boy dies, for good, and so do you." She stopped struggling, but not in defeat. "Better," He whispered. "You will go to Earth. I want you to find the Winchester boys and their friend, Bobby Sanger. Go to them as a psychic, a psychic who knows all. That shouldn't be too hard for you, with all of your gifts, you really could know all. Help them with anything and everything they need. Your boy will find you on the way. Find out everything you can about them. I will find you if you don't do as I say."

"But, why? Why should I help them? And why would they let me help them anyway? And help them with what?" She asked, struggling in his grasp once more.

"Too many questions. You will help them because I told you to. You will help them kill monsters, demons, the like. Trust me, when you tell them your name, Sam will remember you, and he will want to help you. And you can say that you want to help him." The man said smoothly, loosening his grip. She twisted and fell from his grasp, and pulled out her dagger and placed it in front of her.

"And what if I say no?" She said calmly, shifting her weight to the balls of her feet.

"Like I said," He began, and a white light surrounded him, and a wind whipped around them. "Nobody says no to me. Want to know why? Because I am God." With that, the wind became stronger, pulling the building around her away until she was in open air. He lightly pressed two fingers onto her forehead, and she felt like she was falling. Then it all went black.


End file.
